Her Room
by ZaraShade
Summary: There was a place in the New Sanctuary no one dared go, or even mention. Ashley's room.


**A bit random, I know. But I feel like I need to add an Ashley moment into what has kind of become a mini-one-shot series. **

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No one questioned it. Will doubted that even Tesla, who was now inextricably wound up in the New Sanctuary, would dare broach the topic with her. Some might say it was unhealthy, a sign that she had not moved on, that she was losing it. But anyone who knew Magnus knew that wasn't the case. It was her way of coping, her way of dealing. She had long since accepted the death of her daughter as the harsh reality, but she would not forget.

That's why there was now a room that no one dared enter. That Magnus could occasionally be spotted entering and sometimes not emerging until a day later. It was Ashley's room.

Everything had become so hectic at the Old City Sanctuary, Will had all but forgotten about the forbidden area that had been Ashley's real room. Magnus had never cleaned it out. He'd briefly considering bringing it up to her once or twice a year after her daughter's death but some crisis or another had always got in the way. In the past few months, he had completely forgotten about it. But it seemed Magnus had most definitely not.

It was just like the girl's old room. So much so Will suspected Magnus had actually just shifted the contents secretly down to the new premises.

His curiosity had always got the best of him, even when he knew he probably shouldn't. That was why one day he'd found himself investigating, lingering outside the door of the empty room. He hadn't heard her approach. He'd come to learn he was only alerted to her approach when she wanted him to be.

"It's only right there be a place here for her too," Magnus had offered. She didn't have to explain herself to him and they both knew it, but she wanted to. Will couldn't help but hope this meant they were finally working their way to getting past the rift that had emerged between them in the past few months.

"It may not make sense to anyone else," she continued, "But this was her dream too. Ashley was as much a part of the Sanctuary as I am. She was my daughter. From the moment she was born, her life was bound to that of the Sanctuary. Perhaps I was selfish to bring a child into this world knowing it in the first place... but, because of her unique upbringing, Ashley would have seen just how important this place was."

Will nodded, slowly.

"She may not be here," Magnus said, "But my home will always be her home too."

Will didn't know what to say. Though the pain of losing Ashley was still present in all those close to her, none felt the sting more than her mother. While others could move on in remembrance and honour of their fallen friend and comrade, Helen would always feel the pain. Her heart would always be missing a part of itself without her daughter, and there were no consoling words that could ease that ache.

"She was one of things that kept me going in my years of solitude, while I was building this place," Helen said. "Remembering her wide eyes, so innocent, as she used to ask me why our home had to be kept secret. Why people could ever hate the creatures she'd come to grow up with, some as family. Preserving that...preserving those creatures and their integrity above all else."

She trailed off, and he looked over at her. She was biting her lip, eyes glistening with tears she refused to shed.

"Magnus," he said, "I'm so sorry."

He was sorry. He was sorry for Ashley. He was sorry Magnus had to live with the burden of losing her. He was sorry she'd had to spend all of those years building an underground Sanctuary because society couldn't accept abnormals. He was sorry for his behaviour, for not trusting her.

But somehow, he couldn't quite get those words out. His apology hung in the air for a long moment.

"I know, Will," she said. Perhaps he didn't need to say them after all, perhaps Magnus was a mind-reader as he'd always suspected. "I know."

They stood side-by-side outside of Ashley's room, for how long he had no idea. Neither of them said anything more.

Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for their relationship. Even if they could never go back to the way they had been – perhaps he'd hurt her more than he'd realised, wrapped up in his own selfish stupidity – but they could move forward.


End file.
